Crimson Droplets of Regret
by MildeAmasoj
Summary: "The snow fell, an arrow flew, and blood began to drop slowly onto the pure white ground, staining it with that unholy crimson color." AU to 2x03, in which Merlin chooses to help Morgana and tells her he has magic. At the end, Emrys will always be Morgana's doom. Rated T for major character death, blood and implied or mentioned other characters death. No slash, Merlin/Morgana.


**Hello!**

**So, I was listening to the song "The Funeral" by _Band of Horses_ and then I watched a Merlin/Morgana video with this song, and I decided to write this story. The ending is similar to the video, but the story is different. **

**Uhm, the title was probably the most difficult part; I had help from my friend _theAnonymousParadox_, and between like TEN different titles, we chose this. Thanks, Miss America ❤**

**It's an AU to 2x03, in which Merlin chooses to help Morgana and tells her he has magic. At the end, Emrys will still be Morgana's doom, but in a different way. **

**Warnings: major character death, description of a bleeding wound and implied other character death. Yeah. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own ****_Merlin_****, but one day I will. Right now, it belongs to****_BBC Network _****and blah blah blah.**

**Thanks to my beta ****_Lolaangelbunn_**** and to the aforementioned ****_theAnonymousParadox_**** for their help. I love you, girls. Seriously. **

**I hope you'll like it!**

**Love,**

**-MildeAmasoj ❤**

* * *

The one they call Emrys will walk in your shadow.

He is your _destiny, _and he is your _doom_.

_-The Cailleach to Morgana (4x01)_

* * *

Time seemed to stop.

It was a moment. Just a moment, a moment that would be frozen into Arthur's mind until his dying day - like a deep wound on his heart, like a fire burning into his memories.

The snow fell, an arrow flew, and blood began to drop slowly onto the pure white ground, staining it with that unholy crimson color.

A scream broke through the silence of the forest. It was a scream that seemed to come from Hell itself. Morgana's voice held fear, desperation, pain, sadness, betrayal... But not what Arthur expected from her. Not _regret_.

No, the witch had not a single regret.

She had done what she had thought was right, what her heart had told her to do. She had been happy, happier than ever, even if for a short time. That was why she could not regret her actions.

It had all startled during a cold night in her chambers, when nightmares plagued her sleep like a disease, and she tossed and turned in her soft bed, desperate to escape from the horrors of her mind.

She had run to Gaius' chambers, hoping to find the old physician there. But she had found Merlin instead, who had answered to her pleas for the truth with a half-baked excuse and a mumbled apology. She had felt betrayed by his response - or lack of thereof - not really knowing why. Maybe she had subconsciously thought that he could help her, had he wanted to.

She had run away, just like a _coward_ - no, the coward had not been her, but _him_.

She had not heard - or she had not _wanted _to hear - the warlock's voice calling her name; maybe if she had turned around and answered to his call, things would have gone differently.

But she had not, and he had been the one to follow her.

He had taken her by the wrist, his touch warm and comforting, and had pleaded for her to listen to him. She had swallowed the lump in her throat and had nodded, leading him to her chambers.

They had sat at the table, close to each other, and Merlin, with a shaking voice and a lowered head, had told her about a boy who had been born with magic and had been afraid of his power, and of a beautiful lady who had happened to be just as scared. He had told her that he had magic and that she had, too. Morgana, after a moment of hesitation, had given him a watery smile, thankful, and had thrown her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He had wrapped his arms round her, hugging her back.

In that cold night, something had changed.

Something that had been written in the stars since the dawn of time, something that a certain dragon called Destiny... The fabric of the future itself had shattered in millions of pieces, defied by the kind heart of a young warlock and by the fear of a beautiful witch.

Merlin and Morgana had spent a lot of time together, after the discovery of their shared talent - and what had started as an unlikely, yet strong, friendship, had slowly grown into something even more powerful.

_Love_.

But even with all the power they held - even with all the power _love _held - Destiny had been defied like she had never been, and she had decided to take her revenge.

That was why - Merlin was sure of it - that was why they had been found. It was Destiny's fault.

They had been practicing - like they did almost every night - in Morgana's chambers, while exchanging smiles and tender kisses.

A small light was glowing in her hand when a young servant - not Gwen - entered the room. The red-haired girl gasped and the tray dropped on the ground with a clash that alerted the two sorcerers of her presence.

There was a pause when all three were holding their breath - but then the maid turned around, shouting that a sorcerer had took the Lady Morgana's place and blabbering other nonsense. The witch looked up at Merlin in panic and in the span of a moment they were out of the room, running to save their lives.

They hid into an alcove when some guards began running towards the king's ward chambers. They looked at each other - there was so much in their eyes that couldn't be spoken - and they took solace into the presence of the other. It was just them, and a stolen kiss, before they were running again, out of Camelot, under the falling snow.

They arrived into the woods, not succumbing to the fatigue of their escape thanks to the adrenaline filling their bodies. They stopped for just a moment, but it was enough for the well-trained knights of Camelot to find them and surround them.

Arthur held his hand up and stepped forward, his sword raised and his eyes cautious. He looked at them, his head tilted to the side. "Is it true, Morgana? Are you a _sorceress_?" he asked, incredulous.

She would never know where she had found the strength and the courage to answer honestly - it was probably thanks to Merlin's hand holding tightly onto hers. "Yes," she answered, her chin raised high. There was a slight tremor in her voice, but she blamed her lack of energy after the long run - she was _not_ scared. She wasn't.

The prince's eyes widened and trailed towards his manservant. "Merlin?" he inquired, his hand subconsciously tightening onto the sword's hilt.

The warlock swallowed the thick lump in his throat and pushed his fear aside. "I have magic, just like her."

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, wincing as if their 'betrayal' had been a physical blow. "Then you give me no choice," he proclaimed. "You two are charged with treason; you are guilty of practicing magic and enchantments, and must therefore be sentenced to death."

Morgana gasped loudly and Merlin blinked against the tears welling up in his blue eyes. The witch shook her head, stepping closer to the man she had always considered her brother, her green eyes pleading. "Arthur, please! Do you really think us evil?"

The blonde opened his mouth to answer, but he didn't have the chance as a knight pulled the trigger of his crossbow - he had been scared or his finger had slipped, it didn't matter why. The arrow flew, embedding itself in Merlin's unprotected chest.

Time seemed to slow down as the raven haired boy looked down at his wound - blood spilling out fast - and then raised his head slowly. He looked at Arthur, who had dropped the sword in shock, and they couldn't say who had really betrayed whom. He then locked eyes with Morgana, who seemed to not understand what was happening, her brow furrowed in confusion.

It was a moment. Just a moment, a moment that would be frozen into Arthur's mind until his dying day - like a deep wound on his heart, like a fire burning into his memories.

Time began to flow normally once again, as the greatest sorcerer of all times fell on his knees, his hand instinctively grasping the arrow and tearing it out of his flesh. Blood poured out of the wound faster, quickly soaking his blue shirt, falling on the white ground in tiny red droplets.

Morgana's scream was inhuman; it seemed to come from the depths of Hell, shaking the fabric of Earth itself. Everyone recoiled at the potency of it, shuddering as they felt the strong wave of magic pass through them.

She ran quickly and dropped onto the ground next to her lover, embracing him with her shaking arms, holding him and whispering sweet nonsense as he fought for each precious breath. Her green dress was drenched in crimson, and her face was contorted in grief and fear and covered in tears.

She stroked Merlin's hair until his struggles to breathe ceased and he went limp in her hold. She kissed his forehead, whispering indiscernible apologies as loud sobs wracked her petite frame. She held his lifeless body on her lap, watching him for a moment, love shining in her desperate and bloodshot eyes; his face was as white as the snow, his soft lips colorless and his body soundless - so unlike her Merlin.

That was when she realized that the body in her arms was nothing but a _corpse_, an empty shell; it held nothing of the wonderful boy that had stolen her heart with a few kind words and a cheeky grin, with his bright blue eyes and his tender touches. She would never be able to see him again.

And it was _Arthur's_ fault.

She knew it was his, and Uther's, fault. She had done nothing wrong, if not try to find happiness with the only man worth of a place in her heart. _Merlin_, whose name still made her heart skip a beat, was- _had been_ innocent, just like her; his only crime had been the wish to see her smile.

She looked at the prince, her green eyes steely and cold - nothing like how they had been when she had looked at Merlin - trembling in rage. "I always thought you were a better man than your father. I was _so_ wrong. You're just like him, a tyrant scared of his own reflection that places his guilt upon the shoulders of innocent and harmless people. You _disgust_ me. You will pay, _Arthur Pendragon,_ I swear it," she said, her voice cruel and her nostrils flaring. She began chanting, her eyes flashing gold, while tightening her hold onto Merlin's body.

The blonde's eyes were full of tears and regret as he stepped forward. "_Wait_, Morgana...!" he exclaimed, but she was gone before he could reach her. He would not see her for years, until the day she stepped on the battlefield leading an army, with her sister Morgause on the left and the young Druid Mordred on the right.

Morgana Pendragon - she had discovered her true parentage from her sister - had come back to avenge the death of Emrys. She had prepared herself for the battle for five years. The same day of her disappearance, she had buried Merlin beside her _real_ father, Gorlois, and had sworn upon his grave that they would have their revenge.

Uther had succumbed to a deadly illness not long after she had left Camelot - he had never recovered from her 'betrayal'. Arthur Pendragon - her own brother - would pay for his sins, and she would have no mercy for him.

"Do you really hate me so much?" he would ask her in the moment she stabbed him with her sword - Excalibur, she had found it at the bottom of the Lake of Avalon.

She would stare down at him cruelly, her heart not bearing any love for the man she had grown up with. She would twist the sword into his gut and remove it swiftly, enclosing him into something akin to an embrace. She would whisper in his ear the last words he would ever hear with a bubbling sense of satisfaction in her chest.

_"You cannot begin to know how much I hate you."_

* * *

"If Mordred is not Arthur's bane, then, _who_ is?"

"Himself."

_-Merlin and Euchdag (5x02)_


End file.
